Why Leicester City is potentially the greatest modern day sporting tale

It wasn't supposed to end up like this. The story of the underdog is a dated, 20th century concept - always thrilling, always unrealistic. It can't possibly happen today; that's why those larger-than-life Hollywood sapfests seem to incite such heavy-handed emotion - they remind us of a time left behind by the modern money-crunching world of sport. It's why Leicester City FC, top of the English Premier League after 26 games and only 12 left, are such an anomaly.

There's still a big if attached, with a third of the season left, but if they win, could it be the greatest sporting tale of the modern era?

When Claudio Ranieri took over Leicester this season, the club was all but pencilled in for early relegation. For starters, they had Ranieri at the helm, old "Tinkerman" himself, best remembered for fumbling around in the dark (2000-2004) with the riches afforded to him by Roman Abramovich, when the Russian first bought Chelsea. He then went on to have a decent but unmemorable journeyman-like career across Europe. Ranieri's that avuncular old chap you know you're related to, but not quite sure how. He always ends up having two whiskeys more than his wife allows, and talks - in broken English - with a faintly endearing sense of delight with the world. Even now, he's been talking about avoiding relegation (!).

Let's take a peek at what they're up against. There's Chelsea, defending champions, owned by Russian gazillionaire Abramovich. Manchester City, the new nouveau rich, the oil reserves of the world backing them in the form of Sheikh Mansour. Manchester United, so far ahead in the capitalist game that they even have an official noodle partner (what?). Then there's Arsenal; stingy, sure, but the club has more money than the tax-payers of India can subsidise and complain about.

Leicester, on the other hand, have Jamie Vardy up top. The guy was, what, a no-gooder non-league player until a few years ago, and looks like a thug. He has that Virat Kohli-esque quality of annoying the shit out of anyone watching him or playing against (or with) him, without nearly the same reserves of talent. Yet here he is, top of the charts with 19 goals already, having broken Ruud Van Nistelrooy's record of scoring in ten consecutive games; Vardy managed 11.

In goal, there's Kasper Schmeichel, tainting the great Schmeichel family name with his mediocrity. One of their defenders is called Christian Fuchs. For Fuchs sake. Another's name is Schlupp. A different one is called Danny Drinkwater. Come on, these guys belong in a Dickens novel, not the top of the league. In the summer, they bought some unheard-of fellow named Riyad Mahrez. He comes from Algeria, a country Indians know only because it was the last resort (with Ankara, Angola, and Azerbaijan) when you ran out of places with names starting with A in that game you played during long drives. Yet Mahrez is one of the players of the season already, the creative heartbeat of the team, scoring 14 times with 10 assists. Leicester spent only £400,000 on him. That's approximately 1/106th of a Mesut Özil, the equivalent, presumably, of the nail on Ozil's little toe.

Comparisons are futile, but make them we must. Greece's victory at the 2004 Euro championships comes close. But that was a competition where you can technically win a tournament with only one outright win and three wins on penalties. Leicester are in a far more demanding league setup, which rewards consistency. Greece's game was built on a professional cynicism, preventing the opposition from scoring via an aesthetically unappealing emphasis on defence, unlike Leicester, who rely on quick balls out of defence, fast, endless running/pressing, long balls, early breaks, unexpected counterattacks. They've been taking teams on and, while using a fairly primitive style, they're still exciting to watch.

Plus Greece is barely a country anymore. But, you know, that's not even important. What's important is the getting there, not the how.

Nevertheless, let's not get carried away by the narrative. They've been lucky with a limited injury list, and have prioritised the league over the cups to avoid fixture pile-up, yet they're only two points above Arsenal, with all signs pointing to a late Arsenal push, while Tottenham have their own little underdog story developing.

And it's not like they're made entirely of lovable Enid Blyton characters. Jamie Vardy looks like a thug, and that's partly because he has those tendencies. He's been convicted of assault (for a bar fight, what else?), and at the beginning of the season was caught on tape mouthing racist slurs. Danny Simpson, their right-back, was convicted of assaulting his girlfriend. So there's a dirty, unforgivable past that Leicester have to contend with. I wouldn't call it redemption, but it does add a sense of intrigue to the developing story. The If, as always though, looms large.